


We Fit Together

by WhosInTheAttic



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Public Display of Affection, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhosInTheAttic/pseuds/WhosInTheAttic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on the song "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URdLfkJLD7U">Sunshine</a>" by Mike Felumlee.</p>
    </blockquote>





	We Fit Together

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "[Sunshine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URdLfkJLD7U)" by Mike Felumlee.

The Doctor and Rose had spent over an hour getting dressed to the nines for one of Pete’s big Vitex soirees. Rose pinned her hair back into a bun at the crown of her head, tendrils of curled hair hanging down from it. She exited the washroom as she smoothed her hands over her black gown, and her eyes fell upon the Doctor. He looked gorgeous in his black tux, his hair only slightly neater than normal—yet still looking quite alarmed—and struggling with his bow tie; he’d managed to tie it, but it was sitting crooked. “Here, let me,” she smiled, crossing the room and taking the ends of his tie, tweaking them this way and that. “There you are,” she grinned, smoothing her hands over his lapels.

“Thanks, love,” he said. They both turned to face the full-length mirror and Rose gave his reflection an appraising look. She pretended not to notice that he was doing the same, but paying special attention to her breasts.

“The car will be here in ten minutes.”

“Ooh! Just enough time for me to check the news,” he darted out of the room, leaving her to primp her hair a few more times and apply lip gloss. She was humming a little song to herself as she heard the telly go on in the next room.

After several minutes, the Doctor let out a shriek, startling her, “OOOOOOH! Rose!” he called from the sitting room, “ROSE!” he dashed into the bedroom, skidding on his trainers and gripping the door jamb with both hands to avoid falling over. “Guess what’s on telly at nine?!”

Rose smiles, “What, Doctor?”

“Star Trek. It’s a marathon, Rose!” she giggles at his enthusiasm and rolls her eyes.

“Doctor, you _know_ we’re supposed to go to Dad’s thing tonight.”

“Yeah, but you don’t really want to, do you? Awww, c’mon.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“There aren’t any adverts,” he says coaxingly, waggling his eyebrows.

“Doctor…”

“But Rose, it’s Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS Enterprise! _Sir_ Patrick Stewart!”

Rose quirks an eyebrow, “What about Kirk?”

“That’s next weekend,” he says, resigned; he’s nearly certain she’s going to say no.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

She was sure she was going to hear about it at work on Monday, and in perpetuity from her mother, but she chose to curl up on the couch with the Doctor, spooned against his chest. They hadn’t even bothered to change out of their formal clothing, only kicked off their shoes. Rose had taken her hair down, and the Doctor had thrown his suit jacket over the back of the armchair, before untying his bowtie and undoing the button on his collar. The tie hung unfurled around his neck as he breathed into Rose’s ear.

As he held her, he realized how much she complimented him, completed him. She made all the disparate parts of his shattered world come together and make sense. Under her gaze, he felt like he could finally properly grieve the loss of Gallifrey and the TARDIS; she saw him—at his best and his worst—and still she stayed. He hoped she’d always stay.

With that thought, he pressed a kiss into her hair, and as he did so, he took a deep breath and smelled her strawberry crème rinse. He sighed.

“What?” Rose said, not turning around.

“Just thinking about how much I love you, is all.”

He kissed her again.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Another night in watching telly; this time the Doctor had cajoled her into an Indiana Jones movie marathon. Not that she was complaining; Harrison Ford was dishy in his younger days, and Raiders of the Lost Ark gave her very specific memories about the Doctor at a fancy dress party they’d attended earlier in the year.

She smiled at the thought of snogging—and almost more—in the coat room, their lips pressed together, tongues caressing each other, sampling the wine on one another’s breaths. The Doctor had pressed her against the wall, nipped at her lip, and had his hand up her sequined Cleopatra shirt; his fingers slipped greedily under her bra to grip her tender flesh, the pads of his fingers caressing her nipple. She cupped him over his trousers, and he pushed against her hand, trapping it between their bodies. She had been pulling at his belt buckle when the disapproving sound of a throat clearing caused them to break apart.

Rose settled closer to him on the sofa and he tightened his grip on her for a moment. He was trying to keep his mind on the movie, but it was moments like this that stunned him. He never thought he’d do domestic, never thought he’d stay in one place, on the slow path. More stunning, he never thought—if events should transpire that way—that he would enjoy it. The one adventure he could never have turned out to be the one thrust upon him by…well, _himself_ and now that he was in the thick of it, he’d never have it any other way. A normal life with Rose, to be a part of a family again; it was more than he could’ve ever hoped for.


End file.
